


stone cold, do you miss me

by wetoomustlove



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-25 23:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetoomustlove/pseuds/wetoomustlove
Summary: It's 2014 - Andy's career is just about to take off and Miranda is still Miranda.  They end up at the same holiday party after not seeing each other for years.  Events play out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A holiday story just because. Completely un-beta’d – all mistakes are mine to own.

Miranda had over two dozen holiday parties on her rotation this year. And those were just the ones that made the cut. 

Tonight’s third engagement of the evening (and not the last, mind you) was hosted in part by a board member of Elias Clarke, which unfortunately made it mandatory. Most people considered Miranda beholden to no one, but even she had to play the game. There was no other way to reach her star power without participating in the game. 

 

 

Andy had exactly one holiday party on her rotation this year (if you didn’t count going home to her family’s house and that really wasn’t much of a party for anyone). The year 2014 brought huge changes to her life, one of which was a career shift towards freelancing. 2009-2013 was spent reporting on the 2013 municipal elections in New York City for The Mirror. Exhausted, with more bylines under her belt than she could count and the City Hall Bureau Chief title on her business card, Andy knew if she didn’t make a shift she would be in room 9 forever. Not that that was a bad career – it was just not the career she wanted.

She put her two weeks in and immersed herself into an essay on the democratic primaries for the 2013 election – she began by writing an introspective on the rise and fall of Eliot Spitzer and Anthony Weiner in their respective elections. Comptroller and Mayor. Were they related – did one fail because the other failed? Why did one crash and burn so much more spectacularly than the other (they both had failed, so why did this matter?)? Why did they both believe they were owed their shot at a redemption? She shopped it around and New York Magazine loved it so much they put it on the cover and asked her what else she had. 

Her mind still on the 2013 elections, she did a piece on the rise and fall of another politician: Christine Quinn. Once considered “mayor in waiting,” the openly lesbian City Council Speaker and Bloomberg protégé, came in third with just 15% of the vote. Was it because she was a woman? Because she was a lesbian? Or was it because she wasn’t progressive enough? Could the lesbian who represented Chelsea lose because she was too moderate? Or did something else have to be at play. The city did end up electing de Blasio – a candidate who was arguably the most progressive candidate on the ballot. Andy loved these essays because she felt like it expanded on her work for The Mirror in a more substantial manner.

Her editor had invited her to tonight’s holiday party and every single friend she had shared her anxieties with about attending a party full of editors and publishers and the crème de la crème of publishing urged her to go. Her editor at New York Magazine recognized she was a rising star and she was rewarding her by opening this door for Andy.

 

Miranda air-kissed the cheeks of Jake, the host who had invited her, and put on her most patrician smile, “hello dear. Another wonderful evening. You all have truly outdone yourselves.”

“Nothing quite like a Miranda Priestly soiree,” Jake responded with a broad smile, “but it’ll have to do. I really--” with that he was interrupted by a woman in a suit wearing her dreads pulled back into a ponytail. Miranda looked her up and down. Her dark skin was smooth and had a shine to it – she must have been no older than early forties. Her suit fit nicely – clearly it was custom – and then she noticed her shoes. Prada loafers. A few seasons out of style, but acceptable. “Miranda – this is Macy. She is the political editor for New York Magazine. Macy this is Miranda, editor in chief of Runway, of course.”

Miranda maintained her patrician smile and turned to look at Marcy, “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

“And this is Andy Sachs, Jake I wanted you to meet her. She’s my star and she’s going places. I wanted to introduce you to her because she used to work at Elias Clarke. Before your time, but I wanted to make the connection.”

Miranda’s blood ran cold. Andrea? Sachs? Here? In front of her? 

Yes, Andrea Sachs. Here. In front of her.

Miranda always knew she was beautiful – unstylish, unfashionable, a bit heavier than the women she dealt with on a daily basis, but beautiful non-the-less. And Miranda knew beauty. She surrounded herself with it daily, had made it her life’s work to pick out beautiful things and display them to the world. She hand selected beautiful clothes, beautiful models, beautiful jewelry, beautiful shoes – and she got to put it in her magazine and say “hello world – this is beauty – this is what you should covet, what you should yearn for. This body, these clothes, those shoes.” And all of this is why Miranda was having a hard time understanding her reaction. Andy was wearing a red floor length gown with a huge slit up the side. (at least she had retained some knowledge regarding appropriate eveningwear, Miranda thought) The flash of her legs through the slit caused Miranda’s breath to catch in her throat.

“My, Andy, please tell me how we let you escape our clutches,” Miranda almost missed Jake’s reply as she fought to keep the color out of her cheeks and her breath even.

“I actually used to work for Miranda, here,” Andy replied sheepishly. 

This was the first time they had seen each other in years and she had no idea what foot she was on with her. By the time she made it to the airport in Paris and Andy had realized what she had done she called Runway France and gotten Miranda a replacement assistant. She forwarded them everything from the digital binder she created for fashion week with a few extra notes. She needed to make sure Miranda was taken care of. And then there was the reference and the last time they had seen each other…across the street in front of Elias Clarke…there was no way she had imagined that look. She just hoped Miranda wasn’t as angry as she had been imagining all those years.

“Wow – I didn’t know that. What a coincidence!” Macy slapped Andy on the back as if to say, ‘imagine that!’

Finally, Miranda made eye contact with Andrea, “hello Andrea.”

“Hi Miranda,” Andy’s tone of voice did not reflect the sheer terror in her eyes. Her voice was steady. Miranda was impressed.

“And how did Macy and the crew manage to steal you away from Miranda’s clutches?” Jake asked good naturedly clearly not noticing the sharks swimming in the water and not attuned to Miranda’s personality enough to understand the waters he was wading into.

“Oh no – I wouldn’t say they stole me away – I actually was at The Mirror before contributing to New York Magazine. I worked for Miranda a long time ago,” Andy wanted the ground to swallow her whole. The teeny crush she had when she worked for Miranda, the one she assumed was hero worship, was worming its way back into her thoughts. Miranda looked absolutely stunning in a black gown that showed off more skin than Andy could handle. Andy’s eyes lingered on her cleavage, but she could not stop staring at her collar bones.

“Andrea was my assistant. Second assistant.” Miranda managed in her most blasé and indifferent voice, “she almost even made it a year, am I correct in that memory, Andrea?” Miranda barred her teeth in the most predatory smile. “Anyhow, I must finish circulating and saying my goodbyes. Jake, it was lovely as always. Macy, it was so nice to meet you, and Andrea,” Miranda’s tone took on her blasé tone once again, “goodbye.”

As Miranda left she could hear Macy let out a low whistle, “what the heck did you do to her? Or what the heck did she do to you?”

The last thing Miranda heard before the din of the party took over was Andy grumbling softly, “you don’t want to know.”

 

 

Andy needed fresh air. She was totally and completely unprepared to see Miranda and needed to collect her thoughts. She looked around and noticed she did not see Miranda anywhere and sighed in relief. She must’ve left. She looked at her watch and realized she probably had at least three more events to show her face at.

She noticed there was a smoking balcony. Well, better than going through coat check and down the elevator for a few breaths of fresh air. The balcony had space heaters and one group of smokers were clustered under the one all the way in the far right.

To the far left was a single person. A single woman. A Miranda.

Shit.

She could’ve sworn Miranda had left. Could’ve sworn she would already be at party number five or six.

She had four choices: 1) go back inside 2) stand in the freezing cold when there were two perfectly functional space heaters mere feet away 3) turn to the right and awkwardly stand there while a group of people who obviously knew each other and were gossiping over their cigarettes gave her dirty looks for crashing their party 4) turn to the left towards Miranda.

She turned left.

Her plan was to not say a word. If Miranda was uncomfortable, well, then, she could leave. But there was no way Miranda wanted to hear from her despite all that she felt she needed to say, so she quietly made her way under the lamp.

Miranda turned to look at her giving her a withering glare – the same glare that kept underlings out of her elevator – and turned back towards the sky. 

Andy put her hands on the railing and took a deep breath.

“Andrea.” Andy thought Miranda was going to say something else, but she remained silent.

“Miranda,” Andy responded in kind. “I always liked the way you said my name.” She said still not facing Miranda. She felt Miranda’s silence next to her and thought about her vow to not saying anything. Whatever, she talked first. “At first it was really annoying because…I thought you were messing with my head but…”

“Your name is beautiful and Andy is a horrible nickname.” Miranda huffed as if she was explaining the most obvious thing in the world.

“Can I…” Andy bit her lip, looked over at Miranda, and then turned back to the sky, “I’ve had a few drinks.”

“I guess so. That sentence made no sense.” Again, with the haughty huff.

“Can I tell you something?”

“I hope it’s not an apology because it’s a bit late for that.”

“It’s not…I mean I am sorry. Really sorry. So sorry.” Andy reoriented herself, “God it’s so dumb. I just wanted to tell you that you looked good tonight. Really good.”


	2. Chapter 2

Miranda looked Andy up and barred her teeth, “I look good?”

“Yes. You look good. Beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous – I could continue but I think you already know all of this and do you really need the appraisal of your former assistant of less than a year who left you in Paris?”

Miranda’s eyes went hard as flint at the reminder of Paris and what Andy had done to her, “I should be going now.”

“Right.” Andy said rolling her eyes. She was suddenly completely unafraid of any consequences she may face for speaking this way to the one woman who could end her career with the snap of her fingers.

“I know actually informing an interested party of a departure is a foreign concept to you, Andrea, but there is no need for your attitude.” Miranda spoke in her signature low drawl that could cut glass.

Andy nearly laughed out loud at that, “you’ve been waiting a long time to get a dig in like that, haven’t you?”

“Do not be ridiculous. I’ve hardly thought about you at all. Or what I would say to you if you had the nerve to approach me in public.”

“Hardly?” Andy smirked at Miranda’s slip.

Miranda leveled her steeliest gaze at Andy, “Hardly.” She then turned her back and floated back inside.

Andy looked down at her shaking hands. She felt like she had just run a marathon - her adrenaline was pumping through her at such a rate she felt like her heart was going to give out at any moment. She looked from her hands to the door Miranda had just gone through and then back at her hands. She willed herself to calm down, but something had snapped inside of her. Miranda always elicited the most intense emotional reactions for Andy, whether it was fear or loathing or attraction. Without considering what she was doing, Andy chased after her. 

Andy caught up with Miranda as she was walking away from the coat check.

“Miranda,” Andy said urgently as soon as they were facing each other.

“Andrea, as I’m sure you can imagine, I have a completely packed evening and I’ve spent more than enough time--” Andy grabbed Miranda’s arm and yanked her down the hallway, “I do not appreciate being manhandled, Andrea, have you gone completely mad?” Miranda sounded incredulous, but made no moves to pull her arm away.

Andy pulled her into an empty room and shut the door, “probably,” was her response before she pushed Miranda against the door and leaned in. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to slap or kiss Miranda.

She went for the latter.

As soon as her lips met Miranda’s Miranda yelped in surprise. The noise made the pit of Andy’s stomach drop deliciously. Miranda leaned into the kiss her back aching at the wood digging into her. Andy growled at how pliant Miranda was and pushed her harder into the door.

Andy pulled away to catch her breath. She looked down and saw that Miranda was breathing heavily her neck covered in red splotches. Andy smirked at the sight of Miranda undone. Smirked at undoing Miranda with a few minutes of kissing.

“If I knew you were this easy I would’ve done that a long time ago.”

Miranda looked slightly affronted and then pulled Andy down towards her to continue the kissing. “Shut up.” Miranda replied right before their lips met again.

“I thought you had to go?” Andy said pulling back again. “Packed schedule?” She said in a faux questioning voice throwing Miranda’s words back at her.

At that Miranda pushed Andy off her. Andy instinctively reached out for her, but Miranda slipped to the side.

Miranda felt her cheeks grow warm at Andy’s teasing. “What? You just wanted to prove to yourself that you could…you could what? That you are no longer under my control? That you can affect me the way I affected you for all those months? That I’m not the big scary dragon ice queen you built up in your head?” Miranda was embarrassed that she had let her guard down - that she had let Andy kiss her and that she had kissed back.

Before Andy could respond Miranda threw open the door and for the second time that night Andy was left shaking watching Miranda retreat.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes - definitely could go longer with this one, but I decided to end it here for now. This was supposed to be a short exercise to get me out of my head while writing the much longer/meatier fic, but it turns out there may be more of this universe to explore. Will possibly revisit for a sequel/continuation of sorts if anyone/enough people are interested.

Andy banged her forehead against the door that had just been aggressively shut in her face (not slammed, Miranda would never slam a door).

 

When Andy first saw Miranda that evening, all she had wanted to do was apologize, act graciously, bite her tongue, and get the hell out of there.  Instead, she stammered out a weak stream of compliments, followed Miranda like a stalker, forcibly drag her into a room, and kissed her.

 

Miranda was going to murder her.  She was going to kill her career and then when nobody would call Andy back for work and she was a sad, pathetic, unemployed, and unemployable sack of a human, Miranda would kick her a few times and laugh in her face.

 

Andy ran her fingers through her now tussled curls and shuddered at the thought.

 

What was she going to do?  Call her and apologize?  No. No more contact with Miranda, Andy decided.  She had to put some distance between the two of them and hope that if she never mentioned, it Miranda would find it prudent to never mention it as well.  How hard could it be?  It had taken them this long to make contact again.

 

At least she would get to die having kissed Miranda. 

 

Miranda whose curves were surprisingly soft under Andy – Miranda who sighed as soon as Andy flicked her tongue against her teeth – Miranda who dug her fingers into Andy’s hips to pull her in tighter – Miranda who kissed back with as much precision and delicacy as she applied to everything else in her life – Miranda who…

 

Miranda who opened the door (careening Andy who was still leaning against the door to the side, thankyouverymuch) and was suddenly standing in front of Andy again.

 

“Miranda,” Andy breathed out unsure if she had just willed Miranda into existence.

 

“I did not appreciate your tone, Andrea.” Miranda said sharply.

 

“I was just teasing you…” Andy cut herself off at Miranda’s equally sharp look, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize you would…” be so sensitive, Andy wanted to say, but quickly realized Miranda would not take kindly to being referred to as sensitive, “I really shouldn’t have…”

 

Andy stopped, clearly frustrated.  She knew Miranda was volatile on her best days and was considering her words carefully to avoid another abrupt ending to the conversation.

 

Miranda’s face pinched, “Why did you kiss me?”

 

“Why did you come back?” Andy shot back before she could bite her tongue.

 

“A question with a question,” Miranda mused with an arched eyebrow, “you are not interviewing me Andrea.  I asked a question and I expect a response,” Miranda finished icily.

 

“I was…I had more to say upstairs, I guess, and you walked away.  And I just…I walk away, you walk away, we can spend the rest of our lives walking away from each other, but it wasn’t right when I walked away. It wasn’t.  And I need you to know that I know that.  And I wanted to tell you that,” Andy finished lamely.

 

“Why did you kiss me?” Miranda repeated – face inscrutable.

 

Andy looked at her hands and then made eye contact with Miranda, “I kissed you because you are beautiful and I wanted to kiss you.” Andy replied evenly. “It was either that or slap you.”

 

Miranda quirked an eyebrow at that.

 

“This isn’t…I’m not playing some joke on you, Miranda. I--” Miranda blushed and Andy paused to suck in a breath at Miranda’s obvious reaction.

 

It was one thing to flippantly accuse someone of ulterior motives using veiled language, but it was another to have that deep fear thrown back at you in the plainest of words.  Miranda was coveted and desired by men and women all over America (nay, all over the world), but none of those people knew her.  Andy knew her, knew how evil and nasty she could be – she had witnessed it first hand – and yet, Andy still wanted to kiss her.  Miranda could not see how that was possible.  Of course the jilted ex-assistant who was tortured is back for revenge.

 

“I know you think everyone is out to get you and there is no possible way I could have kissed you without being underhanded, but not everyone is out to get you Miranda.  That is not me and it never will be.  I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you and that’s that.”  Andy gave her a sad smile, “let’s just…for both of our sakes…we can just pretend that I asked to speak with you in private very politely and then I expressed my deepest apologies for Paris.  We can go our separate ways.”

 

“Is that what you would like?  To pretend it never happened.  To go our separate ways?”  Again, inscrutable.

 

“Of course not!” Andy said desperately, “I am giving you an out here, Miranda.  Take it or leave it.”  She ran her hands through her hair out of frustration. “You are not making this easy.”

 

Miranda pursed her lips and gave Andy a once over.  Disheveled from the kissing and subsequent anxiety, her dress was slightly eschew and her hair was a mess.  Her eyes soft and pleading.  Miranda couldn’t help but feel a pull towards her.

 

“Very well,” she said once she was done with her once over, “I appreciate your candor.  And discretion, Andrea.”

 

“My…” Andy wasn’t sure where this was going.

 

“Yes.” She said taking a step towards the frightened girl, a lion inching towards its prey, “your _continued_ candor.  And discretion.”

 

And before Andy knew what was happening, a hand slid into her hair and a pair of lips were on hers.  She hardly had time to react and by the time she was leaning into the kiss Miranda was stepping back.  It happened so quickly Andy was almost sure she had imagined the glint of hunger in Miranda’s eyes.

 

“I shall be in touch.  Goodbye, Andrea.” She said softly before she was out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned, it is my first time writing fic in a decade for any fandom - any feedback is appreciated and welcome!!! 
> 
> As I also mentioned, definitely have some ideas brewing for some sort of continuation of this universe if anyone cares to read about it. But for now I will be working on i've never been played in a good match!!! I will finish it!!!!!


End file.
